


Soil of the Earth

by catnipArsen



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Possession, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnipArsen/pseuds/catnipArsen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Reuploaded- Previously titled 'Threshold'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Woodsman

**Author's Note:**

> **I am no longer working on this work.**

_Greg..._

_Greg, are you alright?_

_Greg._

_Greg!_

“What...”

“Are you alright?” Greg's eyes opened, albeit slowly, to see the face of a worried Beatrice. “Greg!”

He squirmed a bit on the icy ground, pleased to find his limbs free from the Edelwood branches. “B-Beatrice. What's going on?” The bird smiled, moreso out of relief than happiness.

“You need to go home.”

Greg sat up and looked at the forest around him, yet the only things he saw were trees, snow, dead leaves, Jason Funderburker—the frog—and Beatrice. “Where's Wirt?” Beatrice frowned and turned her head away, the memory still fresh in her mind. “We need to go find Wirt!”

“Wirt will catch up, he said. He wanted to make sure you were able to get home first, before him, to give that old lady her rock back..” She lied through her teeth, but at least, outwardly, Greg's smile meant he bought the lie. “Let's go, Greg. I'll help you home.”

“Let's go, Jason Funderburker. We have to return Mrs. Daniel's rock.” The boy stood on wobbly legs, picked up the frog and followed Beatrice as she guided him where he needed to go; but something in the back of his mind kept trying to turn him back, turn back to Wirt.

–

_The pain..._

_I can't take the pain..._

_Please make it stop..._

_I change my mind..._

_I change my mind!_

_I change my mind!_

Wirt's eyes were foggy when they opened once again, focusing slowly to see a lightly snow-dusted dimly lit lantern. His body was cold, as the snow had began to dust him while he was on the ground. His body ached, every muscle, every joint; in fact, it felt like he'd just tumbled down a steep hill. He felt so battered.

As Wirt sat up and the snow that fell on him fell off, he felt a presence, and whisked around behind him. “H-hello?” No one was around him, but he couldn't help but feel a lingering presence, and a not-so-docile one at that. “Hello?” He called out again, this time with a bit more confidence.

What had happened? Wirt wracked his brain but his memory was fuzzy. He remembered falling asleep by a tree. He remembered getting separated from his brother, he remembered—wait. “Greg!” Wirt shouted as he stumbled to his feet. He gripped the handle of the lantern and swung it around in hopes of illuminating the dark forest. “Greg! Where are you?” Panic set in. The only evidence that human had been here were... none. The only footprints leading to and from this area was his own. He walked himself here, he left his brother behind.

But _why?_ “Greg!” He called out once more before falling back down to his knees. “What happened?” He whimpered to the empty air.

**The ultimate sacrifice, my child.**

Wirt's blood chilled and he looked frantically around, trying to find the source of the voice, but the darkness hid nearly everything. “B-beast?” He gulped and held the lantern up around him. “Where are you?”

**Dear boy, your memory seems to have been fogged a bit. Allow me explain.**

“No!” Wirt shouted. “I don't want to listen to _anything_ you have to say! Give me my brother back!”

The Beast let out a low chuckle. **Your brother, Gregory, is already safe. He no longer wanders in my forest. He has returned home.**

“No, he can't get home by himself! He's just a little boy! He needs me! Where is he?”

**Your brother does not need you. He is safe. You made sure of that.**

Wirt lowered the lantern, unable to spot the Beast in the forest around him—which made him wonder if he was even there at all—his heart feeling emptier than it'd ever been. “What happened?”

**You made the ultimate sacrifice, Wirt. You did something I never thought possible.**

“What did I do?”

**Right now, you stand at the threshold of hope and surrender. You have bested me, but have also condemned yourself. Look into the lantern, boy. Look into the lantern and tell me what you see.**

He didn't want to. Wirt had no desire to peer inside the soul of the Beast again.

–

Now how long had it been since Wirt had seen another human being? Two, three days? Perhaps time itself had just stopped. His only companion was the lantern he carried with him and the occasional voice of the Beast that refused to leave him. He still had no idea what had happened the few days prior. His memory was faded and all he had to go on was this _stupid_ lantern.

The snow had stopped falling long ago but the winter air still held firm, chilling everything it touched. Wirt stared absentmindedly at the world in front of him, knowing, but not fully acknowledging that things were around him. The only thing on his mind was Greg. The Beast had been vague when talking to Wirt about the goings on that had happened. What had happened to Greg? Had he turned into and Edelwood tree? Could one of the several trees he'd past been Greg?

  
  


**Boy.**

Wirt jumped at the voice that had been following him for days. “W-what do you want?”

**The oil in the lantern is getting low. You must replenish the oil for us to live.**

Wirt raised an eyebrow. “Us? What are you talking about? This lantern is _yours_ , it's got _your_ soul.”

**Cut down the Edelwood trees. Fill the lantern. After all, it is _ours_. Keep it burning.**

“If I didn't need this, I'd have thrown it out a long time ago.” He furrowed his brow, trying to pinpoint the Beast's location; but as it had been before, he could not find where he was hiding. “What are you even talking about, _our_ lantern?”

**Why don't you look into the lantern, Child? I'm sure you'll find the answer in there.**

“I...wait.” He stopped walking and squinted. What was that...a house? No, it was the mill he and Greg had stumbled upon when they first entered the forest. “Maybe there's some oil over there.”

The snow hardly touched the ground in this area, making the walk to the mill much easier. Wirt knocked at the door and hoped someone was here. He doubted anyone lived here anymore and after a moment of no response he assumed it was abandoned and reached for the doorknob; however the door swung open the moment his fingertips made contact with the metal. “Hello...oh. It's you.”

Wirt blinked. “Woodsman. You, uh, still live here?”

The Woodsman's gaze shifted downward to the lantern Wirt held. “I can't very well go back to the place I used to call home. Not without knowing where my daughter is.”

“Oh, I'm... sorry to hear that.” _Wait... I know where..._

The Woodsman nodded and looked back up to Wirt. “Where's your brother?” He asked, pulling Wirt from his thoughts.

Wirt shrugged. “I don't know. I can't remember what happened a few days ago. It's like my mind's been blocked. I honestly don't remember much of anything.”

The Woodsman examined Wirt's expression for a while before speaking again. “Please, come in. It's too cold for you to be out there right now.” He opened the door wide enough for Wirt to enter and shut it behind him. “Are you alright? You look like death.” Wirt would have been offended, had he not thought the same thing. His skin was sickly pale and there were dark circles under his sunken eyes.

“I'm fine, just a little beat up.” It was so much warmer inside here than out in the forest. The fireplace crackled, a new log just beginning to catch flame. “So, Woodsman, I was wondering--”

“Wipe the mud off your shoes before you carry dirt all over my house.”

“Oh, yeah sure.” He wiped his shoes on the small rug by the door, and struggled to remove one pesky little Edelwood twig that held on to him. “I was wondering, do you still have any oil? The lantern's starting to go out.”

The Woodsman, whose back had previously been turned to Wirt, turned to face him. “Why would you be concerned with the lantern? I thought you wanted to return home?”

“I do, but... mm, I just feel like I'm not done here yet. I feel like there's something I need to do and I need the lantern to do it.” Wirt struggled. He didn't know what he needed to do, or if there was anything to do at all. “Just... you don't have any oil at all?”

The Woodsman sat on the floor near the fireplace, inviting Wirt to sit beside him. “I couldn't extract enough oil to fill the lantern before. I'm completely out of oil.”

Wirt sat beside the Woodsman, removing his cloak and hat. He held his hands to the fire and warmed them. “Your mill still works, right? I can go out and get some branches and...”

“Boy, the Beast is a good-for-nothing and you should just give up the petty chase. Go home, child.”

“I can't! N-not now.”

The Woodsman let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you carrying the lantern around? Have you agreed to assist the Beast?”

The teenager shrugged. “Like I said, I don't remember a lot of what happened a few days ago. I don't know what I said or did, but I just can't help but feel like I need this thing to stay lit. It's like I've been trapped within my own demise. I've become a double edged sword; I cannot see who I was or who I will be. I am trapped in an inevitable loop, one between life and death, good and evil, hope, and surrender; my only solace is the light from the lantern of mine enemy. The...”

“Alright.” The Woodsman interrupted. “I'll help you. At the first light of dawn, We shall go out and fetch Edelwood branches. But you need to regain some strength first. Are you hungry?”

Wirt's eyes gleamed at the mention of food. He'd been wandering so much, he'd hardly had anything to eat. “Y-yes please! Or, I mean yes I am.”

“I only made one portion of stew but I don't mind sharing.” The Woodsman stood and headed to the kitchen. “Wash up before dinner. The stew's almost ready.”

“Y-yes sir!”

“And take your shoes off, boy. You've still got sticks stuck to them.” Wirt glanced at his shoes, yet another pesky stick stuck to the bottom.

–

Dinner was simple but Wirt didn't care. He just needed nourishment. The stew was an easy vegetable and deer meat stew, but he could have eaten dirt and been happy. “Get your elbows off the table.” The Woodsman snapped, and Wirt retracted his arms immediately.

“Yes sir! Um, thank you for the food, Woodsman.”

“You're welcome.” He smiled. “You'll need a place to stay for the night. You may use my bedroom upstairs.”

Wirt raised an eyebrow. “Where will you sleep?”

“By the fire. I have to keep it going or the house will freeze during the night. If you wish, I'll watch the lantern as well.”

“Are you sure?” Wirt asked, finishing up the last of his stew.

The Woodsman shrugged. “I've been watching it for years, what's one more day?”

Wirt smiled and picked up his bowl and the Woodsman's as well. “Thank you. I'll clean up for you.”

The elder smiled and thanked Wirt, and as Wirt cleaned the kitchen the Woodsman set another log onto the fire. The wind howled outside and through the window he could see the snow beginning to pick up again. Another long sigh and the Woodsman closed the window shutters, hoping that would keep the windows from opening during the night. “Goodnight, Woodsman.” He heard Wirt say, and he turned to face the boy. “Thank you for your help.”

“Goodnight. Keep warm. It's storming again.”

“I will.” Wirt smiled and headed up the stairs.

The next morning, as the sun began to rise, he and Wirt headed out into the forest with hatchets slung over their shoulders. The Woodsman was still a bit on edge; if Wirt held the lantern then the Beast was definitely nearby.


	2. Oil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank [1apple-fox1](http://1apple-fox1.tumblr.com/) for proofreading/beta reading this chapter!!! <3

The two men chopped for around an hour. The air was cold, nipping at the tips of their fingers and ears, the wind luckily died down though. Their breaths puffed in small clouds that swirled upward as they worked, Wirt humming an eerie tune as he chopped. Wirt’s cheeks and nose grew rosy from the chill of the Unknown winter weather. “How long have you been living out here?” Wirt asked, swinging a small hatchet down in a little Edelwood. Manual labor wasn’t his forte but he wasn’t _bad_ at it. He knelt down and collected the bits of scattered wood he’d chopped up.

The Woodsman huffed and put his own axe down and began to pick up his own branches, which were nicely chopped, all relatively the same size. “I’ve wandered these woods for almost ten years. I know them inside and out. There’s not a lot of these woods I can’t navigate.” He wiped the sweat from his brow, eying Wirt’s work. The tune Wirt was humming… the Woodsman was sure he knew what it was.

“So.” Wirt huffed and slung the bundle of wood over his shoulder, mirroring what the Woodsman had done with his own. The snow hadn’t covered the ground too deep which made the task a lot easier. “Have you ever gotten lost?”

“A few times, in my earlier years.” The Woodsman peered back down to the lantern Wirt still carried. “I always found my way back home.” He turned, wood over shoulder and axe in hand, back toward the mill.

Wirt followed behind closely. “Hey can you, uh, show me how to get the oil out of the wood?” Geez, these branches were a lot heavier than he’d initially thought.

The Woodsman glanced over his shoulder. “Well I suppose I have no choice, if you’re taking this burden yourself.”

Wirt grinned. “I really appreciate your…” He paused and stopped talking entirely. Instead, he turned around and stared into the forest behind him. The Woodsman stopped walking as well.

“What is it?” Wirt didn’t reply for several moments. He just gazed into the trees. “Boy.”

Wirt jumped, blinking fast like he’d been unaware of the whole thing. “Huh? Oh. I thought… I heard something. Must be nothing.” He turned back around and walked ahead of the Woodsman back to the warmth of the mill. The Woodsman followed suit, squinting back into the forest.

The sun was fully up by the time the two arrived back at the old mill and they immediately went to work, the Woodsman wasting no time in showing Wirt the process of extracting oil. It wasn’t a difficult process in the least, to be completely honest. “S-so. You just sit there and crank the wheel?” Wirt asked as he watched the elder work.

“Well, it’s a fairly self explanatory job. You just have to make sure to collect the oil when it pours out. Take that bottle over there, boy,” The Woodsman pointed to an empty glass bottle in the corner of the mill, “and put it under the spout.”

Wirt crawled over and took the bottle and put it under the spout, as instructed, and the liquid filled the bottle slowly. “Um, it’s Wirt. Did this mill take a while to rebuild?” He asked. He remembered the first time he and Greg entered the woods, and how they inadvertently destroyed the mill while fending off the dog.

“Yes but I was able to get it done. I suppose it was for the best, too. I never thought a young child would be the one to carry the lantern for the Beast.”

“Well I didn’t have a choice. I needed to save my brother.” Wirt replaced the now full bottle with an empty one, and looked away. “I wonder if he’s alright.”

The Woodsman eyed Wirt for a moment before stopping the crank. “I’m sure he’s safe wherever he’s gone.”

“What if he’s not?”

“You shouldn’t think things like that, boy. Not in these woods. It’s bad for the mind and spirit.” Wirt didn’t reply. The Woodsman cleared his throat and stood, heading back toward the main part of the house. “Finish this and I’ll have lunch ready by the time you’re done.”

–

The Woodsman hummed as he set the dining table. The stew, same recipe as the night before, bubbled on the stove. The snow began to fall again, a lot lighter than before and the Woodsman started up another fire and the stew was served just as Wirt came in from the mill. “How did it go?”

Wirt set the several bottles of oil by the front door and set the lantern beside them. “It went alright. I ran out of bottles though.”

“Most of them broke when you and your brother destroyed the mill.” The Woodsman huffed. “Come, the food’s ready. But wipe off your shoes. You have Edelwood all over them.” Wirt kicked the wood off his shoes, perplexed as to how they kept getting dirty so fast.

Lunch wasn’t spectacular; but, like dinner the previous night, it was edible and much appreciated by the hungry boy. The two were silent most of the time aside from the occasional please-pass-me-the’s. Though, the Woodsman was glad to have at least a little company after the years of solitude. “Do you have any plans on returning home?” The Woodsman asked.

Wirt shrugged, taking another bite of food. “I don’t know. I-I-I mean I want to, but I don’t know if I can get back.” His eyes panned over to the window and watched the snow fall slowly.

“So instead of finding a way home, you agreed to chop down Edelwood trees?”

Wirt sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I will. Maybe it’ll be good for me, you know.”

The Woodsman lowered his gaze. “Do you even know what Edelwood trees are made from?”

“I think so. But I don’t remember a lot of what happened.” Wirt replied, turning back to the Woodsman. He was sure he’d said that several times before. “I don’t know what happened to my brother, or Beatrice. I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t even know what happened to the Beast.” Wirt stood and took his bowl into the kitchen. Though he had little to no answers, he felt like… he needed to go outside. He felt like he had something to find. “I think I’m going to take a walk.”

“In this weather? You’ll fall ill.”

“Maybe that’ll be a good thing.” Wirt buttoned his cloak and picked up the lantern. “I’ll be back for the oil later.” He opened the door and peered into the snowy scene, as if preparing himself for the trek ahead.

–

He’d been walking for several hours and the sun had begun to set.

The snow had piled higher than Wirt initially thought, and it soaked into his shoes and wet the bottom of his cloak. Strangely enough, the lantern was warm enough that it hardly bothered him and it was bright enough he could see fairly well through the contrasting dark wood and white snow. The snow had gotten heavier and the wind had picked up, making much more difficult to walk. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he needed to go somewhere. It was the same feeling he’d felt while with the Woodsman earlier this morning.

**You feel the pull, don’t you, Child?**

Wirt jumped and spun around, trying to find the source of the ominous voice. “Where are you?”

**You feel it, Child. The essence of a new soul traversing the forest; you can feel its pull, can’t you?**

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just want to get home.”

**You are unable to get home in your condition; might I remind you to look inside the lantern, boy?** Wirt gritted his teeth and silently refused his offer. **Follow the pull, Wirt, and see where it leads.**

He didn’t want to. If the Beast told him to go somewhere, he wanted nothing to do with it; but still, the urge to find out what this feeling was was too strong. Perhaps it was Greg? He followed his gut instincts; or, at least he tried to. The familiar sound of wings caught his ear, followed by a familiar voice. “Wirt!”

Wirt glanced in the direction the voice came from and smiled. “Beatrice. What are you doing here?”

“I was looking all over for you. I wanted to tell you that Greg got home safely.” Goodness, that was the best news anyone could have delivered him. Greg was safe. That alone relieved most of Wirt’s anxieties. That’s all he could have asked for; but there was still the question of what had happened after Greg ran off. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“I… I think I’m alright. What happened to you? You need to go home too.”

“I can’t. We’re still birds.” She murmured. Her eyes were fixated on the lantern, however, leaving Wirt with an odd feeling. It seemed like everyone’s eyes locked onto the lantern, but he hadn’t known why? “I can’t face them like this.”

Wirt pondered a moment wondering if he should hand her the item he held in his pocket. He ultimately decided to keep it a secret, for the time being anyway. “I can take you somewhere you can stay. Let’s go.”

The two caught up as they walked toward the mill; partially anyway, as Wirt’s memory still escaped him. Beatrice hadn’t been up to much, just flying around, looking for a cure for the curse she had accidentally cast on herself and her family. Still, even with the distractions, Wirt felt the tug of the mysterious phenomenon that the Beast had mentioned.

The trek back to the mill wasn’t desired. By this time, Wirt’s pants were soaked to the knees and the cloak did little to warm him. Still, the lantern provided enough warmth in its own ominous way.

He pushed the door to the mill open, taking the Woodsman by surprise. “Oh, hello. You’ve returned.”

“Hi. Yeah, sorry, I hope it’s ok. My friend Beatrice needs a place to stay.”

“A bird?”

“Please, just for a while.”

The Woodsman thought it over. It’s not like he was scarce any rooms. In fact, this place was big enough to fit a large family and how much space did a bird actually take? Plus it beat being alone in a large empty house. With a sigh, he replied. “Alright. You’re both welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” Beatrice raised a brow, though she didn’t feel the need to mention she shouldn’t have to ask to stay here because this was her house, thank you very much.

Wirt smiled. “Thank you.”

The Woodsman hummed. “It’s not a problem. I’d rather you be safe than out there with the Beast and the cold.” Wirt thanked him again and took a step into the mill. “Wipe your shoes, boy. I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you.” An apology escaped Wirt’s lips as mud and Edelwood twigs were scrapped off the soles of his shoes. Strange, in his days of traveling the forest, he’d never gotten so dirty so often than these past two days at the mill.

“So, boy, don’t you have parents that are looking for you?” The Woodsman asked, his eyes getting lost in the plumes of the fireplace. Wirt shrugged, a sleeping Beatrice curled up in his hands.

“It’s Wirt. And I guess… I have my mom, and Josh.”

“Is Josh your father?”

A scoff. “No. Josh is Greg’s dad. My father…” Wirt’s heart ached. “He was never really around. He was always busy or off doing something else. Then my mom divorced him and met Josh, and they got married and had Greg. Josh is always around. He’s a better dad to Greg than my own dad was to me.”

The Woodsman blinked, though he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Prodding was always awkward, he wasn’t sure why he asked. “Well this Josh fellow… I’m sure he loves you very much.”

“Yeah. I mean, he was fun to hang around with before Greg was born, but he was more of a friend then instead of a dad. I don’t know. I guess I’m a little jealous of Greg.”

“How so?”

Wirt huffed and closed his eyes. “I guess it was because his dad wanted to get to know him. I’m… upset I don’t have that.”

The Woodsman glanced over at Wirt. “Well my daughter’s mother wasn’t around either. She was a free spirit… a little too free, I suppose. She wasn’t around long at all. My daughter didn’t even remember what her mother looked like.”

“Hm, parents, I guess.” Wirt chuckled dryly. “Even you’re a better dad to me than mine was.” The Woodsman looked away and placed a hand on Wirt’s shoulder.

“These thoughts aren’t compatible with the forest. You’ll end up being claimed by the Beast.”

Wirt nodded, taking this as a sign he should go to sleep; or at least to leave the Woodsman alone right now. He made his way to the upstairs, Beatrice still in hand. “Goodnight, Woodsman.”

“Goodnight, Child.”

Hours had passed, and the Woodsman sprawled on the couch; but he had yet to sleep. His eyes kept shifting over to the lantern that sat on the floor beside the couch, tempted to blow out the flame within it. _Strange, though_ , he thought to himself. _I’ve felt the Beast’s presence here, but I’ve yet to see him. The coward._ “You’ve lived long enough, Beast. You dragged me down for almost a decade. Now you drag down this child.” The Woodsman reached for the lamp and opened its hatch, peering inside. “It’s time you meet your…what…?” The lantern crashed to the floor as the Woodsman stood.

“It can’t be…” Trembling, he headed up the stairs into the room where Wirt had slept. He was still there, bundled up under several layers of blankets, sleeping peacefully; he was exhausted and it was much needed rest. The Woodsman shook as he approached the bed, and it was apparent, the Edelwood branches creeping up his leg as he slept. “Child…what has he done?”

 


End file.
